


Like Double Cherry Pie

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: salt_burn_porn, Explicit Sexual Content, Felching, Multi, Schmoop, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was a small-town boy, through and through, but even in his most miserable, crowd-oppressed moments, Dean had to admit that big city living had one thing going for it.  Sex shops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Double Cherry Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for salt-burn-porn for blackrabbit42's excellent prompt [Sex and Candy](http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Sex+And+Candy/4AOJn3?src=5) by Marcy Playground. I sort of combined "like double cherry pie" (because obviously that line is referring to a double-headed dildo, right?) and "devious stares in my direction."

Dean didn't like big cities. They were crowded, and noisy, and eight dollars for a plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns was just a fucking crime. Parallel parking the Impala on a crowded street was a stressful event for all involved. Castiel usually made himself scarce while Sam clenched his jaw with each curse-laden turn of the steering wheel.

 

But alas, some monsters loved a crowd. Dean couldn't rule out every metropolis that ran up a high unusual-death rate, as much as he wanted to. Dean suffered the teeming humanity and mystifying coffee menus of each one with a resigned sigh and a whispered promise to the car. “We'll get you back out on the open road soon, Baby.”

 

Dean grumbled and complained and bemoaned the stench of pee everywhere, while Sam nerded out over the local bookstores and sought out the salad-only abominations that passed for restaurants. Castiel seemed out of place in that content way of his no matter where they went, although he did seem to possess a unique fascination with the silver-painted mimes who held a pose for change from passers-by. They gave Dean the creeps.

 

Dean was a small-town boy, through and through, but even in his most miserable, crowd-oppressed moments, Dean had to admit that big city living had one thing going for it. Sex shops.

 

As anyone who knew him was quick to point out, Dean wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what sort of effect he had when he strolled into a room, and Dean drank it in like cold beer on a hot day. It was about a million times better when he walked through the blackened doors and beaded curtains of the local sex toy emporium with Sam and Castiel in tow.

 

Dean could strut with the best of them and Mick himself would have approved of Dean's cock-walk, chest out and head held high as he basked in the furtive attention of the other patrons. Paunchy businessmen lurking in the gay porn section, toned gym rats running their hands over frilly maid's uniforms, sweater-set housewives tracing a fingertip over the biggest butt plugs in the store – they all stopped and stared.

 

Sam always walked a step behind him, his hands in his pockets and those ridiculously muscled shoulders slumped forwards like the world's most bashful pornstar. Sam got plenty of stares, of course, but he managed to deflect most of them with his hair in his face and the “hey folks, nothing to see here” shuffle of his Pumas.

 

Castiel was a different story entirely. His proclivity for primary colors extended well beyond his neckwear preferences. Castiel gravitated towards the bright blue butt plugs and sparkly red vibrators with his eyes wide and his hands shameless. He was as tactile with the fake cocks and lingerie as he was with blooming flowers and kittens. He touched, squeezed, poked, prodded and, that one time in Reno, tasted everything that caught his eye. Kid in a candy store seemed too easy a comparison no matter how true it was.

 

As Sam hemmed and hawed and Castiel trotted off with unabashed enthusiasm, Dean liked to stand for one moment, preening at the curious glances coming his way. The best part, of course, wasn't the attention, or even the enticing merchandise itself. It was the stories Dean knew everyone around him was concocting. Three men walking into a sex shop together deserved an explanation, or at least a raised eyebrow and a smile. And no matter how depraved or wild or hopelessly romantic a tale any observer could summon up, none of it could compare with the truth.

 

Dean had said it, just once, to a beehived woman who was seventy if she was a day. “The tall one over there, with the puppy-dog eyes and the bubble butt hiding under his baggy jeans? He's my brother. And the other one, with the gorgeous lips and the fuck-me hair? Bonafide angel of the lord, with the refractory period to prove it.” Dean had sighed with contentment and smiled. “And I'm fucking both of them.”

 

The woman had just patted him on the forearm and laughed. “You gays are so funny.”

 

Let them wonder. Right then, Dean just grinned and winked at the spike-haired girl behind the counter. Sam ducked his head and went straight to the porn section, because Sam could blush like a schoolgirl all he liked but he fucking loved porn. Dean's fingers curled into the belt loop of his jeans as he thought about jerking Sam off later to whatever gangbang or amateur facial had caught his eye.

 

Dean ambled over to Castiel, finding him next to his usual place at the insertables display. Refractory period and its glorious uses aside, Castiel liked getting fucked almost as much as Sam did. They'd already amassed a brightly-colored collection of ribbed, ridged and rubber cocks that ate up valuable trunk space but Dean couldn't resist indulging Castiel, not when his face flushed and his eyes lit up like that.

 

“This one seems overly ambitious,” Castiel observed, solemnly handing over a double-headed red rubber dick the length of Dean's forearm. Dean cocked an eyebrow and held the thing in his palm, watching the twin crowns flag up and down as he shook it a little.

 

“Huh,” Dean said, shaking it again as he summoned the shopgirl with a tilt of his head and a wicked smile. She packed a new one in a discreet black bag and blushed as Sam came up behind them.

 

“What'd you get?” Sam paid for his porn and followed Dean's no-good grin and Castiel's overly-friendly goodbyes out to the car.

 

“Just thought we could have a little contest.” Dean threw the car into gear and drove out of town, smugly watching the high-rise buildings disappear in his rearview.

 

*

 

“Oh, this is better,” Dean sighed, spreading his legs a little wider and hitching his knee over the worn arm of his chair. The night air was cool where it brushed in past the blinds, carrying the light whirr of crickets and the occasional truck speeding by. They were eight hours and one time zone away from the city. Dean closed his eyes for one moment and just enjoyed it, taking a deep breath and lazily squeezing a hand around the base of his dick.

 

He smiled as he opened his eyes, tilting his head a little to get a better view of Sam and Castiel. Sam's never-ending legs tangled with Castiel's, their toes pointing to the stuccoed ceiling as they writhed on their backs. Sam's hands were white-knuckled into the sheets, bunching them up until the bare corner of the mattress stuck out diagonal to Castiel's splayed thighs.

 

“Aw, come on, I can't see it,” Dean clucked his tongue and faked a pout, stroking himself a few times as Sam took in a heaving breath that landed somewhere between a whine and a growl. He rolled his back, drawing up enough to give Dean a flash of slick red rubber.

 

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, stroking his hand up his cock and squeezing out a bead of precome. The double-headed cock Dean had so thoughtfully purchased slid between Sam and Castiel, lube-shiny and squelching wet as they fucked themselves together. Dean was brilliant sometimes.

 

“You like it, Cas?” Dean smeared the slick drop with his thumb while Castiel turned his head and sex-glared at Dean like he shouldn't ask stupid questions. It's not that Sam didn't look hot, with that pink flush on his face and his lips kiss-swollen and ripe. It's just that Castiel completely lost it when he was like this, his mouth hanging open and his eyes barely focused. Sam worked for it, his eyes slanted with concentration on each grunt and push, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. Castiel just let it wash over him like he could only follow wherever his body took him.

 

“I don't know, Cas, I think Sam's got you beat.”

 

A little good-natured competition kept things interesting and despite a decade-plus of variations, Dean never tired of the “see who comes first” game. It had taken a while to get Castiel to understand that snapping his fingers and making all three of them spooge their shorts was a great party trick, but it was also cheating.

 

“What do I get,” Sam huffed, his head arched back as he rocked his hips down and smacked his ass flush against Castiel's, “if I win?” Castiel moaned and rolled his eyes back as Sam's thrusts buried the toy deeper inside him.

 

“Well, I was thinking,” Dean said thoughtfully, stroking his dick one last time before standing up. His cock waved in front of him as he sauntered over to the bed, two sets of eyes watching it hungrily. Dean grinned and gave his nuts a lazy tug, licking his lips and smiling down.

 

“Winner gets my cock in his ass, and the loser...” Dean hummed, tilting his head to the side like he was trying to make a decision. Why choose between the carrot and the stick when you could have a little of both?

 

Dean clucked his tongue and let his other hand close over his dick, stroking up and squeezing around the head until a fresh pearl of precome glistened at the tip. Dean released his hold on his balls and dragged this thumb across the slit, catching the shiny drop on the pad of his finger.

 

Dean's skin tingled with the pleasant sensation of all eyes on him. He couldn't hear the soft chirp of crickets and mid-suburban nightlife any more, just the huffed grunts and thick slaps of Sam and Castiel moving against each other, impaled on the same stretch and sliding wet over their sweet spots with each twist of their hips. Castiel groaned with each thrust, slack-jawed and dazed while Sam's stomach muscles visibly worked with each move, rolling and taut as he fucked himself faster and faster.

 

In a lifetime of hidden knowledge and arcane lore, Dean felt most privileged to know the little tells of both his men. The way Sam's neck started to flush a deeper red, the way Castiel's toes started to curl down while Sam's arched up like he was on tip-toe, the barely perceptible tic of Castiel's jaw – this was the knowledge that Dean savored and hoarded for himself. They were both close, and if Dean were feeling unkind he'd wrap a hand around them both and have them disqualified in three seconds flat.

 

Smiling with the benevolence of a man who knew everyone was going to win, Dean slowly brought his thumb up to his mouth. He dragged his tongue over the whorls of his finger, catching the salty smear of himself and sucking it between his lips. Sam grunted and dug his hands into the sheets, knuckles white as he pistoned his hips, his cock smacking wet against his belly each time. Castiel flung his arms out like he was holding on for the ride, his breath coming in through his nose in short little puffs.

 

Dean pulled off of his thumb with a pop, licking his lips and nodding. “I think the loser gets to lick up the mess when I'm done.”

 

Dean doesn't play favorites, but he wasn't exactly surprised when Sam went off like a shot, his back arching off the bed as his hips stuttered around the thick length of rubber still connecting him to Castiel. White stripes of his come landed over his chest before pooling over his belly-button, running in rivulets down the tight cut of Sam's abs. Dean hadn't gotten sick of seeing this and he couldn't imagine that he ever would, clamping a hand over the base of his dick as he watched Sam's cock twitch and spill against his skin.

 

Sam was still shaking with his orgasm as Dean guided the rubber cock out of him, making sure to keep a firm grip on it so it didn't slip out of Castiel. That just would have been poor sportsmanship, although the cat-eyed leer Castiel gave him as Dean maneuvered him next to Sam looked anything but disappointed. Dean crawled onto the bed, the mattress groaning with the weight of three men and Dean's manhandling as he pushed Sam's knees up around his flushed, perfect face.

 

Dean could still see the last twitches of Sam's stretched, shining hole as he skirted the head of his cock against it. Sam was dripping with lube and gaping pink, and the deep, filthy sound he made as Dean pushed inside him lit Dean up on the inside as he felt Sam stretch and open around him. Dean pressed in until he was flush to the hilt and leaned down, curling his back to kiss Sam and brace his free hand by Sam's shoulder.

 

Sam pulled off with a nip on Dean's bottom lip and turned his head, stretching his neck to reach Castiel and give him the sort of wet, open-mouthed kiss that he knew would drive Dean over the edge. By sheer willpower and every drop of his fraternally-competitive DNA Dean managed to stave himself off, rearing up to snap his hips and hear Sam grunt with it.

 

“Don't want to get greedy, Sammy,” Dean growled, slamming into him again and arching an eyebrow at Castiel. “Can't leave Cas hanging, can we?”

 

Dean tightened his grip on the slippery hilt of the toy, drawing it out of Castiel slow enough to watch his hole flex around each ridged bump. Castiel moaned with each one, every desperate sound muffled by the insistent press of Sam's tongue. There was nothing to stifle the wet sound Dean made as he sank his cock into Sam and pressed the toy back into Castiel, timing it so he could fuck them both at once.

 

Sam's hand snaked out, trailing blindly down Castiel's stomach until his fingers brushed over the leaking slit of Castiel's cock. Sam's lips curled up in a grin as he closed his big hand around Castiel's cock, stroking up as Castiel's eyes shot open. There was no way Castiel could last much longer, not with Dean working the toy in his ass fast enough to hear every thrust, and not with Sam jacking him rough and dirty while his own body shook with each snap of Dean's hips. Wet and sweat-slick and slapping together, they hit that rhythm where they all moved as one, writhing into each other with a give and take that made the bed scream in protest. Dean bit his lip and worked his wrist fast and hard, focusing on the rising pitch of Castiel's cries and the way Sam's dick was chubbing back up already, anything except how close he was to coming because he needed Castiel to do it first.

 

Castiel always came like it surprised him, his eyes shock-wide and everything trembling. It was easy for Dean to forget that he and Sam had the benefit of a lifetime behind them when it came to things like orgasms and eating ice cream. As Castiel bucked back onto the toy in Dean's hand and rolled his head to rest on Sam's shoulder, Dean tore himself from the wild grin on Castiel's face to look down at Sam.

 

Dean wasn't totally desensitized to the quadruple-X level hotness around him, and it wasn't like the sight of Castiel spilling over Sam's hand while Sam's come-spattered chest shook with each thrust of Dean's hips wasn't enough to send him over the edge, but really, what got him the most sometimes was the simple look of happiness on both their faces. Sam's eyes had that foxy slant of satisfaction as he gazed at Castiel, and when he turned to look at Dean he licked his lips and smiled like they'd just saved the world.

 

Dean loved two people who loved him back just as much as they loved each other, and Dean came with the knowledge that this is what no one could really, truly conjure up in their wildest dreams.

 

Dean had barely started to soften when Castiel rolled onto his side, wriggling down the length of Sam's body and raising himself onto an elbow. He looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, his eyes dark and his hair matted down on one side. With one eyebrow arched up and his lips parting open, Castiel carefully cupped Sam's balls and moved them out of the way.

 

“I lost fairly,” Castiel pointed out tersely, his voice raspy with disuse and feigned displeasure. He gave each of them one last look before he ducked over the bent crook of Sam's leg and dragged his tongue across the tight stretch of Sam's hole where Dean was still inside him.

 

Let them wonder. Dean threw his head back, laughing as Castiel shouldered him out of the way and slid his tongue into the first wet rope of come that ran out in Dean's wake. Dean settled on his side, resting his head on his hand as he watched Castiel close his lips around Sam's hole and suck. Closing his eyes, Dean heaved in a deep sigh of contentment, listening to the sound of crickets chirping softly and his angel licking into his brother's sloppy wet hole.

 

Dean couldn't imagine why anyone would prefer the noise of the big city.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
